Monday, April 14, 2014

The thing about being a
pioneer is that the land you are cutting into is going to range
vastly. The law of averages states that for every acre of rich,
fertile soil you find, you are also going to discover some barren,
rocky land too. This Peekarama double-feature, courtesy of the
fantastic folks over at Vinegar Syndrome, showcases two films that
are the very definition of this, with the one commonality being that
they were both directed by cult film pioneer Roberta Findlay. This
particular disc features 1971's ALTAR OF LUST as well as the 1974
feature, ANGEL ON FIRE.

ALTAR OF LUST stars the
fabulously named “Erotica Lantern” as Vivica. A petite and
bewigged beauty, she reclines on a shrink's (Fred J. Lincoln)
psychedelic paisley patterned couch and begins to tell him of her
highly dysfunctional childhood. All was well for little Vivica until
her father died when she was only 14. Her mother, besotted with
grief, married a gold-digging oaf named Hans (C. Davis Smith). That's
right, Hans. While he might have the name of a European pastry chef,
Hans is actually one lecherous boar of a man. As soon as his wife
dies, he follows a newly adult Vivica, who is resplendent in some
really fantastic white go-go boots and ends up raping her in the
woods. In a move to make us about as uncomfortable as Ms. Lantern
must have been during the making of this scene, the cinematic
violation goes on way too long, with the camera steadfastly focused
on Hans' pasty-twitchy-man-ass. It feels hateful.

Finally, he finishes and
leaves her traumatized in the grass. Abandoning her pig of a
step-parent, as well as her dead mother's farm, Vivica moves to the
City and almost instantly finds love in the form of Don (a
pre-mustachioed Harry Reems). He's handsome, gentle and a wonderful
lover, with the two getting serious enough to move in together. This
results in some semi-simulated sex scenes that read fairly fun and
passionate, including one especially cute and playful shower scene.

Everything seems idyllic for
the saucy lover-birds until one afternoon, when Vivica comes home to
find Don in flagrante delicto with another woman, Marie (Suzy Mann.)
To say that the couple are nonplussed by Vivica's appearance is a
Plymouth Rock-sized understatement. In fact, Marie's instantly
smitten and immediately starts pawing and “making nice” with
Vivica, who does the sensible thing and walks out. Okay, that's a
total lie. Nope, instead our heroine gets starkers and quickly finds
that she is crazy about Marie's physical affection. To the extent
that Don quickly is downgraded from ultra-lover to nuisance.

This leads to Vivica's
further angst, making her exclaim to her shrink, “Doctor. I'm a
lesbian! Can you cure me?” He refuses to make a judgment call, but
seems to change his mind by the end of the film when (Spoiler Alert)
he decides to remedy her of these Sapphic leanings with some
unorthodox therapy. Note, if your psychiatrist says things to you
like “Think of me as a man, not as a doctor.” which is then
followed up with, “It really works quite well.” get the hell out
of the room and find a lawyer stat.

ALTAR OF LUST is one weak
cup of tea. That said, thanks to the typically wonderful restoration
job by Vinegar Syndrome, the film does look good. Certainly a million
miles away from the murkier print in its previous release from
Something Weird Video. The colors pop nicely and on top of that,
there is some terrific voice over work. For starters, you get to hear
the unmistakable dulcet, New York meets New England tones of
Roberta's then husband Michael as the shrink. In fact, hearing
Michael's voice ask questions like, “Did Don remind you of your
father?” is a perverse treat for any fans of his own
acting/directing work like The Flesh Trilogy. Roberta also does a
good job voicing the eternally confused Vivica, at times out acting
poor Erotica Lantern. (What a name, though!)

ALTAR OF LUST was released
in 1971, which was a weird cusp period for sexploitation. Hardcore
was increasingly growing strong, starting with Bill Osco's
groundbreaking 1970 film MONA, but many softcore filmmakers were not
quite ready to take the full plunge. So here you have a weird blend
of blatantly simulated sex, shots of erections, a brief unsimulated
blow job and some fun with digits. Speaking of the art of physical
love, I'm not sure if I have ever seen more un-reluctant simulated
lesbian sex. You can almost feel the actresses thoughts, “What?
I have to put my head down where? Fine, but I ain't touching it!”
It gets even more sad when one
of the lady-on-lady love scenes is cross-cut with a much more earthy
scene with Harry and a belly dancer. (Though her somewhat fresh
looking C-section scar is a bit jarring. To the point where I was
yelling at the screen, “Be careful!” when he starts going down
South.)

Ultimately, ALTAR OF LUST is
more of an interesting relic from an era when softcore was awkwardly
transitioning into hardcore. Thankfully, the second feature on this
disc is miles ahead of the game.

ANGEL ON FIRE aka ANGEL
NUMBER NINE opens up with a love scene between the handsome but
highly dickish Stephen (Alan Marlowe) and Carol (Judy Craven). Their
afterglow is quickly spoiled by Carol's declarations of love to her
monumentally insensitive lover. Things get even more awful for the
poor girl when she breaks it to him that she is pregnant, prompting
him to yell and throw her out of his apartment. (What a peach!)

Little does Stephen know
that his life is going to be cut short, thanks to George (Marc
Stevens) getting distracted behind the wheel while a lovely lass
“attends” to him. Stephen gets hit, promptly dies and goes to
heaven. It is there he meets Angel Number 9 (Jennifer Jordan), the
same woman who was with George just moments ago. She informs Steven
that while he was not horrible enough on Earth to warrant going to
“the other place,” he was enough of a cad to not deserve Paradise
either. Not yet.

To earn entry into Heaven,
he will have to return to Earth as Stephanie (Darby Lloyd Rains), a
beautiful blonde. Initially resistant, even remarking that “I'd
rather be dead than be a woman,” he quickly changes his tune once
the gravity of the situation dawns on him. Angel makes love to him
and then sends him on his journey. Once Stephanie knows true love and
heartbreak akin to what she/he caused so many hapless young women
back when she was Stephen, only then can she return to Heaven proper.

Eager to use her new body,
she immediately hooks up with a concerned and confused George, direct
at the scene of the accident. Despite his constant statements of
“You're really strange,” Stephanie's weird behavior is not enough
to thwart him from knocking boots with her at his scumpit of an
apartment. Afterwards, she goes home and gets further acquainted with
her new womanly form. In the morning, she ends up seducing one of her
male form's girlfriends, Linda (Day Jason.) She actually manages to
convince Linda that she really is the reincarnation of Stephen and
after that, they make love. Feeling some goodwill, Linda ends up
connecting Stephanie to a successful fashion photographer named Jeff
(Jamie Gillis.)

Stephanie ends up falling
fast for the moody and darkly handsome Jeff and in no time, he charms
her into his bed. Love soon becomes intensely unhealthy codependency
with Jeff being an even bigger misogynist than Stephanie was when she
was Stephen. The painful to watch downward spiral ends up proving to
be too much for our redemptive heroine and she/he gets to ascend back
to Heaven.

ANGEL ON FIRE is a reverse
negative of ALTAR OF LUST in that it is a really, really good movie.
The story, taking a few cues from the 1964 Tony Curtis film GOODBYE
CHARLIE and hence, later on influencing the 1991 Blake Edwards
comedy, SWITCH, is smart and plays out like it is driven from both
the heart and the mind. For being helmed by a director who has been
quoted saying that she would never want a woman on her film crew,
ANGEL ON FIRE is a strong, pro-woman film that delves into the true
heartbreak of bad relationships. It's not the obvious heartsickness
of being in love with someone who will never return your affection,
but the deeper sadness of not loving and respecting yourself enough
to know that you deserve better. Women were (and still are to some
degree) coming from a background where your definition of self was
attached to a man. As if you're almost a ghost, all sad eyed until Mr
Husband Potential shows up and makes you whole. It's a bit of a
generalization but one with large, booming seeds of truth.

There's also the sexual
orientation play, with the former macho man Stephen suddenly eager to
break his virginity with a man. As Stephanie, he dives into sex with
the lanky-handsome George, even remarking something to effect, “mine
was bigger.” Which is a funny touch of bravado, since he/she is
saying this to Mr. Marc “10 1/2” Stevens. A lot of guys who are
very “fucking A” with their masculinity usually are hiding
something, whether it is an insecurity in sexual ability or a deep
rooted attraction to the most forbidden fruit for the North American
mook: another man.

The cast is top notch with
the always wonderful Darby Lloyd Rains, who is best known for her
lead turn in Radley Metzger's masterful NAKED CAME THE STRANGER,
ruling as Stephanie. She's passionate, likeable and at times,
heartbreaking, truly showing the transformation from the assholish
Stephen to the redeemed Stephanie. Jamie Gillis is both sensual and
frightening as the ultimate spoiled fruit of a man, Jeff. In contrast
to our torn heroine, Jennifer Jordan is strong as Angel Number Nine.
The supporting cast are all great with industry legend Eric Edwards
popping up as Angel Number Ten, looking every inch the male ideal of
a seraphim.

Once again, bless the folks
at Vinegar Syndrome for not only releasing this historically and
creatively important set, but for obviously caring about a type of
film that most critics and historians to this day still turn their
nose at. Remember folks, cultural revolution is always closer than
you think.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Words like “sequel” and “reboots”
fill my heart with wholly cynical dread, complete with me quoting
John Hurt from "Spaceballs", mouthing “Oh no! Not again!” Given the
bloated six-headed beast that Hollywood has become, burping and
farting up remake after sequel after reboot, I think this reaction is
most natural. Just when I feel completely and thoroughly turned off
to the idea of such creatures, a sequel comes along that actually
feeds me some curiosity and hope. Who better to supply such twin
elementals of joy than Mystic Knight of Oingo Boingo founder and the
man responsible for one of the greatest cult musicals ever created,
“Forbidden Zone,” Richard Elfman?

Thirty plus years later, Elfman has
created a fundraising page via Indie-a-Go-Go for this very special
and unexpected sequel. The immediate question that may come to mind
with a sequel to “Forbidden Zone,” is how? Most of the core cast,
namely Susan Tyrell and Herve Villechaize, have shuffled off this
mortal coil and given the Max Fleischer from Mars approach that the
original possessed, one has to wonder, how could anything possibly
live up to all of that?

But the stills,
including Elfman himself as one fabulously scummy circus clown gone
to seed, look promising. The premise is pretty spectacular, involving
amazons, inbred corn-pone mommas, wee sized royalty, interracial
romance involving a character named Pythagorus Jones, a giant army of
cloned pinheads and Elfman's daughter-in-law and former “Dharma &
Greg” star Jenna Elfman performing an aerial dance described as
“ballet of the chicken.” Also, there are some great pictures on
Richard Elfman's Facebook of his clown, Papa Jupe, getting wailed on
by fringe culture/stage phenom Jesse Merlin (“FDR: American
Badass”). Even better is that the music promises to be a mix of old
standards with originals courtesy of Richard's younger brother, sonic
genius Danny Elfman. (Whom any of you cool enough to be in the know
will also remember playing the most suave version of Satan ever in
the original “Forbidden Zone.”)

Interestingly
enough, there's no mention of Matthew Bright, who was both one of the
main writers, as well as pulling acting duty playing both Rene and
Squeezit Henderson (under the exquisite pseudonym, Toshiro Baloney)
in the original. But the fact that Richard is at the helm, along with
smartly creating a universe of new characters, all of this promises
to be anything but boring. This is one sequel that has all the
potential to thrill one's black little crusty-cynic soul with big
bright hope.